For me, this has always been the Holy Grail of Jorge Ben albums. A sentiment fueled largely by its scarcity since the time I got into the man’s music — This was one of the last of the classic Ben albums I managed to hear. I finally got my hands on it by way of an ex-girlfriend, and (not unlike the girl herself) it was damaged goods — the disc was scratched up and skipped, the cover artwork had long disappeared. But (not unlike the girl herself), it was better than nothing, and I made a personal copy of it anyway, skips and all. The vinyl for this baby has long been out of my price range (until I am lucky enough to find one at a random record stall), so this particular title is one of the main reasons I bought the Salve Jorge boxset.

A set of eleven songs, all written entirely by Jorge Ben, with unfortunately uncredited musicians after the departure of Trio Mocotó. Whoever it is playing the fretless bass on this album is just incredible. Crisp production and arrnangements by Paulinho Tabajós (with some help from Osmar Milito on a few tracks), this is probably the sparest, most stripped-down album of Ben’s discography. For all its wonderful glory, there are actually few ‘staples’ on this album that would continue to appear in Jorge’s live performances and various collections, with the major exceptions of Fio Maravilha (here presented in an extremely laid back, downbeat interpretation), Caramba!, and the earliest version of Taj Mahal which has an “Eastern-sounding” acoustic guitar solo in the middle of it.

Also, if you play the song Domingo 23 backwards, you will here references to the future death / murder of Michael Jackson, using imagery from the film BEN for which Jackson sang the theme song, also released in 1972.

Saravá Jorge, filho de Ogun!

Oh, and this is most likely my last blog post of 2009, so … HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! Thanks to all the readers of this blog — especially those of you kind enough to take the time to leave comments! Lots of light and inspiration to you all in the new aeon.

Interestingly, the bilingual texts on the new CD jackets do not actually have the same information, both containing some tidbits of info that the other doesn’t have. In the interest of globalization I am going to do a quick free translation here (all errors are my own..):

Jorge Ben Jor’s trilogy of albums with Trio Mocotó closes with the powerful “Negro É Lindo” (Black is Beuatiful) in 1971, in a phase of the Brazilian culture industry where blacks began to be perceived as potential consumers. Negro é Lindo delivers an homage to Cassius Clay (later known as Muhammad Ali) and also to João Parahyba, nicknamed Comanche. It has delcarations of love for his beloved wife Maria Tereza Domingas and, at the same time, proposes a pact of goodwill and unity to Rita Lee, responsible for his trips to and from the studio to his house in Brooklin (*southside neighborhood of São Paulo, not the one in New York…).

One difference in relation to the other LPs is the fact that this one was to be more centered on the acoustic guitar in its arrangements, possibly the fruit of his partnership with Paulinho Tapajós, who directed Ben’s recordings between 71 and 75. In the studio, Tapajós prefered to record Jorge one his own and on stop of a platform, under which were placed microphones that captured the time-keeping beats of the artists’ shoes and foot-tapping, and the scrape of his pick across the guitar strings. Beginning with this base, the arrangements were built around him. “With the pulse of the foot-taps, his, voice, and the guitar pick, Jorge transformed himself into a machine of rhythm. Afterward, I embellished this with the other instruments in arrangements (of scale and tone) that wouldn’t conflict with what he was doing. We recorded 30, 40 songs for one single album and I believe there must be a lot of unreleased material. It was the best way to work, because the coolest thing about Jorge is the freedom. He does not have discipline. Therefore, we had to follow along after him.” One could analyze this liberty and freedom as a certain kind of alienation between the techniques and artifices of the studio and the process of practicing as a group. There are classic moments calling for the bridge, or the end of a sing, same as LPs recorded live (“Em cima!”, “Miudinho!”). Add to this the fact that Ben, aside from composing the lyrics and music for the vast majority of the songs he created, did not do arrangements for other instruments: in this era, he played his guitar and sang, and the arranger (or Trio Mocotó) did their work on top of this.

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Side note from Flabbergast… Interesting that Arthur Verocai, who at this point in time is probably more famous outside Brazil than within it, does not get any mention in these liner notes even though he was responsible for the arrangements as much or more so than producer Tapajós…

The notes also sidestep Ben’s involvement with and importance to the movement(s) variously referred to as Black Rio, Black Power, Samba Soul, Movimento Negro, in the 1970s. An embracing of black identity in an allegedly colorblind ‘racial democracy’ where bring up something like “Black Pride” is likely to spark an argument. In fact doing so led to just such an argument for me TODAY — one has to remember this was even more polemical in the early 70s. It’s not the first foray into this territory in Ben’s music or lyrics, by any means, but probably the first where he is self-consciously integrating his work around Afrocentric ideas, making him part of a global phenomenon happening at the same time in the US, the Caribbean, in other parts of Latin America, and in Africa itself. The liner notes would almost imply that this was a marketing strategy (the black woman or man as potential consumer), an interpretation which I hope is just me being reactionary and radical and indignant as I sometimes tend to be… Because if that IS the implication, then its an insult to Jorge Ben and the massive accomplishments of his music during this period.

This pressing hails from the 12-CD boxset released just a week ago. There will be more of it to come…

Truth be told, I am not a huge fan of Emilio Santiago. In fact all I have is this album, ‘Comigo é assim’ and `Feito Pra Ouvir` which might be his most famous from the 70s. But his early stuff is worth checking out, especially this debut album. This one is, in fact, pretty bad-ass. Emilio was sort of a protege, or at least a `discovery` of Roberto Menescal, who wrote the liner notes for this album and produced `Feito Pra Ouvir` a few years later.

In truth this album may be most interested for the insane lineup of musicians who contributed to it. João Donato’s contribution on the electric Rhodes is the most obvious — as is the song he co-wrote with Gilberto Gil, “Bananeira”, as solid a piece of Brazil funk as you could find. Donato also gives the track “La mulata” (penned by the brothers Valle) a salsa-style arrangement that stands out quite nicely. The funk-fusion band Azimuth provides backing on one track only, Jorge Ben’s “Brother.” Now, ‘Brother’ is from what many regard as Ben’s best album ever — A Tábua de Esmeralda — but for me that song has always been the weakest link in the great chain of that record. Here, I dare say that Emilio may surpass the original, and with big credit due to Azimuth, who make the song hit much harder than Ben’s laid-back style.

You can see the rest of the big names who helped out on this record on the CD tray like Wilson das Neves, Copinha, Ivan Lins, Dori Caymmi… Keeping in mind that the lineup of the musical backing changes on every track, sometimes entirely, the album is remarkably consistent in its sound. Emilio’s interpretations of sambas from the likes of Nelson Cavaquinho and João Nogueira are still growing on me, and perhaps they never will… His voice veers towards the schmaltzy style that would make him famous in the 80s and 90s. He is definitely not alone in giving classic samba that kind of slick treatment, but I will always prefer ‘samba do morro’ to ‘samba de calçada’ I guess..

By the way, his name is Emilio Santiago, in case you can’t read it clearly on the front cover of the album. Bio in Portuguese

(edit/update, March 20, 2013 – Emílio passed away today, only in his 60s too.. So I fixed the links here and reposted, but without any other changes. Maybe in the coming weeks I’ll try to get another of his records up here..)

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I had been planning a different samba album for today, a vinyl rip of a somewhat-scarce album, but I just couldn’t manage to finish editing it before the weekend. So instead I am bringing you yet another title from Fundo de Quintal, their fourth LP, and the second on which Arlindo Cruz plays a huge roll (appropriate for a huge guy) as a player and songwriter. The band is really hitting its stride here. I had the honor of seeing him play a live show for free this year and I have never seen so many women going crazy over a large man. I swear I saw some panties thrown on stage although the night is kind of hazy in my memory. Among the great “in-house” songwriters in the group there is also a collaboration between Zeca Pagodinho and Cruz in the credits, as well as a closing number from Jorge Aragão who had left at this point.

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1969
RCA Victor
BBL 1475
2004 Reissue
RCA Victor Essential Classics1 Cadê Tereza
(Jorge Ben)
2 O rapaz do violão
(Dida)
3 Enlouqueci
(Luiz Soberano, João Sale, Waldomiro Pereira)
4 No morro é assim
(Carlos Magno)
5 Bacubufo no caterefofo
(Bidi, Velha)
6 Despertar do lavrador
(Neoci, Dida)
7 Sei lá Mangueira
(Hermínio Bello de Carvalho, Paulinho da Viola)
8 Domingo da Rosa
(Neoci Dias)
9 Larga meu pé, reumatismo
(Ataulfo Alves)
10 Não ganha se não quiser
(Carlos Magno)
11 Canto chorado
(Billy Blanco)
12 Até meu final
(Bidi, Dida)From the back cover:”Considered the pioneers of the “Pagode” groups (samba with a romantic pop twist) that took our music scene by storm in the late 1980s, Os Originais do Samba were really “original” as their name says, with their joyful, pop samba tracks, with a lot of vocals and percussion. The band’s premier album released in 1969 made instant hits of upbeat samba tracks like Jorge Ben’s “Cadê Tereza”, and instilled a new kind of “swing” to traditional samba tracks. — Rodrigo Fauor”Well well… its a dubious legacy to say the least when you claim late 80s ‘pagode’ as a POSITIVE thing.. Nor would I credit Os Originais with adding some swing to samba as quite a few others were already working on that. Anyway, the review above is right about this being a more pop-oriented samba, but not in a negative way. They are a samba vocal group first and foremost, with a focus on entertaining us with well-executed songs and light humor — not unlike Demônios da Garoa, in that sense. One of their members was even involved in the famous Brazilian comedy TV show Os Trapalhões that ran for many years. They owed a lot of their early popularity to the explosive growth of television as a means of influencing popular tastes in culture consumption. They were a huge hit on the first samba festival televised on São Paulo’s channel 7 (1 Bienal do Samba), after which they became a highly-sought after commodity on TV. I will admit that I prefer their 1970s material to this debut album, as they were influenced by the 70s samba revival to lean towards a rootsier, less-orchestrated sound. But this album is great, and their version of Jorge Ben’s Cadê Tereza is pretty famous and important, so it`s worth having this album for that track alone!

Biography by Alvaro Neder

With a particular blend of traditional samba and humor, Os Originais do Samba became a commercial success, achieving three gold records for their hits “Tá Chegando Fevereiro” (Jorge Ben/João Melo), “Esperanças Perdidas” (Adeílton Alves/Délcio Carvalho), “O Lado Direito da Rua Direita” (Luís Carlos/Chiquinho), “É Preciso Cantar,” and “Tragédia No Fundo do Mar” (Zeré/Ibraim). They also had hits with “Cadê Teresa” (Jorge Ben), “A Dona do Primeiro Andar,” and “Nego Véio Quando Morre.” They performed shows with such artists as Elis Regina, Duke Ellington, Earl Grant, Paulinho da Viola, and Jorge Ben Jor, among others, and recorded albums with Chico Buarque, Toquinho/Vinícius de Moraes, Martinho da Vila, and Jair Rodrigues. Os Originais do Samba was the first samba group to perform and record at the Olympia in Paris, France, also performing at the Carnaval Friends of Brazil Club in San Francisco, CA. The group enjoyed continued success in Brazil and abroad in its second formation. The group started in 1960 as Os Sete Modernos do Samba. The next year they were invited by Carlos Machado to perform the show O Teu Cabelo Não Nega, about Lamartine Babo, and they changed their name to Os Originais do Samba. It was followed by a six-month stay in Mexico and performances in Puerto Rico and Brazil. After settling in São Paulo in 1968 they were invited to back Elis Regina in the I Bienal do Samba on the winning samba “Lapinha” (Baden Powell/Paulo César Pinheiro). Their first album came the next year, Os Originais do Samba (RCA Victor), followed by 18 others through 1997. In 1977 the group’s formation was: Bigode (leader/pandeiro/vocals), Zeca do Cavaco (cavaquinho/banjo), Sócrates (guitar), Rubinho Lima (percussion), Valtinho Tato (percussion), and Gibi (reco-reco, tamborim).

Free translation from the original back cover notes:
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Three strong ingredients make up this LP:

The interpretation and singing of Silvia Telles.
The Music of Antonio Carlos Jobim.
The arrangements of Gaya.

Gaya demonstrates more and more with every effort a perfect understanding of the simplicity with which an orchestra must create a background for a singer.

Antonio Carlos Jobim, here with nine first-rate offerings, continues to prove his talent as the best composer of popular music today. And only Silvinha can give life to these songs.

Silvinha has already surpassed the phase of being only a singer. From this album onward we can call her a grand artist, a grand interpreter.

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Silvia Telles’ short life was a condensation of the pathos and tragedy of musical legends. Although Nara Leão may have been “the muse of Bossa Nova,” Silvia Telles was really the genre’s first real interpreter. (I am discounting Elizeth Cardoso’s “Canção de Amor Demais”, which João Gilberto apparently found repugnant due to Elizete’s strident and brash vocal style which was thought to be very un-bossa nova). She was discovered by Billy Blanco at a young age, and dated João Gilberto as her first boyfriend (a relationship that ended because Silvia’s parents didn’t approve of João’s bohemian lifestyle and lack of a permanent address or steady job). Although her career began in 1955 and included performances along side Dick Farney and Dolores Doran, Silvia was one of the earliest people to record Jobim’s music and eventually became the headlining main act at the first ever concert promoted with “bossa nova” on the flier — a term bequeathed by an anonymous typist or secretary whose identity has never been discovered. Silvia was hugely important to the early history of bossa nova. Recording with other early pioneers like Luiz Bonfa and Lucio Alvez, she became one of the biggest stars on the Elenco label,eventually marrying founder Aloysio de Oliveira, and being one of the first bossa nova artists to perform in the United States and Europe. Her life was tragically cut short when she was killed in a car accident in 1966. She was thirty-two years old.

This is a classic statement in the bossa nova canon, allegedly the first album to consist entirely of compositions in the genre. By which is meant, I believe, that other records by founders such as João Gilberto drew from a diverse repertoire such as classic samba which he then turned *into* bossa nova. The album consists entirely of Tom Jobim compositions, many of which are appearing for the first time here. Although it may be hard for listeners to notice it 50 years after its release, Silvia’s singing was quite innovative in its day, a departure from the more dramatic styles that had been popular in past years. The album opens with “Dindi”, a song covered so many times I won’t even try to list them here. I once debated with myself whether Maysa’s version, recorded a year or so after this one, was superior, but finally decided that Silvia is more true to the spirit of it. Maysa certainly had the pain and suffering in her voice, drawn from the ample amounts of it in her life, but her style still veered towards the dramatic. Silvia was understated and subtle — those qualities that no doubt drew João Gilberto to her immediately. The album is so mellow and soothing that it may pass through your aural cavities without too much notice on the first few listens, or drift on the breeze with that stigmatized tag of “easy listening,” only revealing its nuances with subsequent replays. Check out the instrumental break in ‘Demais’ if you have any doubts, doubling the tempo until Silvia sings half a verse and it winds back down again right in the middle of it! No singers did that kind of thing in Brazilian music in the 1950s! This is the kind of musical modernity that was practically ‘scandalous’ at the time. Remember that, like the title says, this record is music for young lovers. It was also an injection of energy and inspiration to other singers who realized they had to contend with Silvia’s power. It’s no coincidence that Maysa, for example, recorded her own bossa nova album a year later with a nascent Tamba Trio, showing that she too could kick it with the jazz-inflected vocal phrasings. Although her career spanned a little over a decade, it’s been somewhat eclipsed by the prominence of those bossa nova stars whose luminosity, one could argue, owed everything to Silvia’s pioneering work.